When my daughter-in-law, Kayla, demanded I create an “elegant” Thanksgiving menu because my traditional dishes were “too cheap,” I smiled and agreed. But behind that smile, I was already planning a meal she’d never forget. A meal she’d wish she hadn’t requested.
Kayla has always had a knack for rubbing me the wrong way.
My son, Arnold, sees her as the perfect wife, but I’ve endured years of her condescending remarks and entitled demands. This Thanksgiving, though, she finally pushed me too far, and I decided it was time to set her straight without saying a word.
My name is Jasmine, and I’m the kind of person who believes in family harmony above everything else. But when your daughter-in-law makes your life a constant balancing act of holding your breath, even the most patient mother can reach her limit.
Arnold, my son, met Kayla at work five years ago.
From the moment he introduced her to the family, I could tell he was smitten. And why wouldn’t he be? Kayla is one of those women who knows exactly how to present herself.
She’s always impeccably dressed, speaks with a polished sweetness, and seems to adore her husband.
On the surface, she’s the perfect partner. But behind that façade lies the real Kayla.
A demanding, condescending, and bossy woman who has made it her mission to undermine me at every turn. The first time I noticed her true nature was during a family dinner, a few months after their engagement.
I had cooked my signature roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.
Those were the dishes that Arnold had loved since he was a boy. As we sat down, Kayla smiled politely and said, “This is nice, Jasmine. It’s very, uh, homey.”
“Thank you,” I smiled but could sense an insult hiding beneath her fake words.
Later, when Arnold went to fetch drinks, she leaned over and whispered, “You should really consider updating your recipes.
These dishes are so outdated.”
“Outdated?” I asked. “Well, Arnold loves these dishes, so I tend to stick with what makes him happy.”
“Oh, of course,” she smiled.
“It’s just that, uh, he’s used to eating a little more refined with me.”
I wanted to snap back and put her in her place, but I stayed quiet for Arnold’s sake. However, I didn’t want to let her nasty attitude slide.
I decided to talk to Arnold about it after dinner.
“Arnold, can we talk?” I began hesitantly. “Sure, Mom. What’s up?”
“It’s about Kayla.
She… she’s been a little dismissive toward me lately,” I said carefully.
“I don’t want to overstep, but I feel like she’s—”
“Mom,” Arnold interrupted. “Kayla loves you.
If she’s ever said something, it’s probably just a misunderstanding. Honestly, you might be reading too much into it.”
I sighed.
“Arnold, I know what I heard.
She called my cooking outdated—”
“She’s trying to help, Mom,” he insisted. “You’ve always been a little set in your ways. Maybe she just wants to bring something new to the table.
Don’t make it a big deal.”
My son thought I was making a big deal out of it, but I knew I wasn’t.
From that point on, I stopped complaining to Arnold. It wasn’t worth the argument, and I didn’t want to damage my relationship with my son.
I decided to keep my head down and maintain a peaceful relationship with Kayla for Arnold’s sake. I thought if I showed her respect and accommodated her requests, she might soften toward me.
But I was wrong.
Kayla only saw my compliance as an invitation to push me further. Every family dinner became an opportunity for her to assert control. “Jasmine, can you make that salmon dish I had at that fancy restaurant?
I’ll send you the recipe,” she would say, as if I were her personal chef.
I agreed, hoping Arnold would notice how hard I was trying to please her. But he didn’t.
Instead, he praised her for being so thoughtful. “She’s just helping bring some variety, Mom.
Isn’t it nice to try something new?”
Nice?
It was exhausting. The final straw came a week before Thanksgiving. Kayla called me while I was folding laundry.
“Hi, Jasmine!” she chirped.
“Hello, Kayla,” I replied cautiously. “What can I do for you?”
“Well,” she began, “I’ve been thinking about Thanksgiving, and I realized it’s such an important meal.
We should really step up the menu this year. Don’t you think?”
I could already feel my patience wearing thin.
“Step up the menu?
What do you mean?”
“Well,” she continued, “you know, your usual dishes are, uh, fine. But I was thinking we could do something a little more elevated this year. I’ll send you a list of recipes.
They’ll make the meal more special.”
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page to discover the rest 🔎👇
